Hadon of Ancient Opar

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Hadon of Ancient Opar Page 20

by Philip José Farmer


  “If we had a torch, we could examine it closely,” Hadon said. “There may be something that you could not see in the dark.”

  “We now have torches,” Hinokly said. “I’ll tell you why in just a minute. I got to the bottom of the ladder, and I swung on the lowest rung back and forth and got my feet onto the lip of the shaft. When I was back in it, I felt downward. My arm could not reach a rung below, but I lowered myself over the edge, and sure enough, my feet touched a rung. So I went downward, down, down, at least two hundred feet, I estimate. When I came to the last rung, I lowered myself with my feet hanging. My toes touched wet stone, and then I was on a stone floor. I groped around. The shaft led downward for about twenty feet at a forty-five-degree angle to the horizontal. And then I was on what seemed a level stone floor that was very near a running stream. I went forward cautiously, but quickly stopped. My outstretched hand had encountered wood: I felt the object and determined it to be a boat. It was long and slim, and the walls were thin. It seemed built for speed. Inside it were seven paddles. But it was like no boat I have ever heard of. A wooden runner curved above it from prow to stern.

  “I went past it for about ten feet and came to the water itself. Then I went back and searched on both sides of the boat. And I found seven other boats. Nearby, against the wall, were several large barrels. The tops had bronze handles, so I pulled the tops off and felt within. One contained torches, tinder, flint, and irons. One contained dried meat and hard bread. Another held infantrymen’s swords. And the fourth held a long coil of rope.”

  “Did you bring any of the food back?” Kwasin said.

  “Forget your belly,” Hadon said. “Where are the torches?”

  “I made three trips,” Hinokly said. “There’s food, a torch and igniting materials, and two swords on the floor of the shaft just above us. And the rope. That was very heavy, but I tied one end around my waist and pulled it along behind me.”

  “Even in sealed barrels the supplies would get wet in a short time,” Hadon said. “They must be replenished from time to time. What is their condition?”

  “Good,” Hinokly said. “They must have been stocked recently.”

  “Well done indeed, Hinokly,” Hadon said. “Now, there are two things we can do. We can go back up the shaft now, haul this hippopotamus up with the rope, and go to the boats. I would guess that if we went up the water tunnel to the right, we’d go northward and come out on the Gulf of Gahete. That will bring us close to the volcano, and we can escape up along the Road of Kho, around the volcano, and get to the wild lands back of it.

  “The second thing is to wait until after breakfast. We’ll be more rested then, and the guards won’t check on us until about midafternoon when the second meal is brought in. Also, there should be more visibility in the day; the light from the shafts will be brighter. But for all we know, we may be taken out in the morning. So I say that we should leave now.”

  Hinokly groaned and said, “I am so tired, I don’t think I can get back up the shaft. My muscles are quivering, and my back is raw. The blanket quickly wore out.”

  “Paga can go first and let the rope down. He can hold it while Kebiwabes and I go up. Then we’ll haul you and Kwasin up. Provided that he isn’t too big to squeeze through.”

  “Paga, throw down some food first,” Kwasin said. “I’m starving.”

  “Food will add to your weight, elephant, and it might make you too swollen to pass through. Your paunch blows up like a cobra’s hood when you eat.”

  “Get ready, you two,” Hadon said. “Every minute will count. And—”

  “Kho, what is that?” Kwasin bellowed.

  Hadon heard a rumbling, and he felt slightly nauseated. For a few seconds he did not understand what was happening. He seemed to be standing on a bowl of jelly or a raft that was being tossed up and down.

  Then he cried, “Earthquake!”

  19

  It lasted for only eight seconds, though it seemed much longer. They rose from the floor, feeling in the soles of their bare feet dying vibrations deep beneath them. Down the corridor cries for help came from the prisoners, and the panicky voices of guards echoed.

  “Quick! Put the bolts back into the wall!” Hadon said to Kwasin.

  Kwasin obeyed, none too soon. Running footsteps and a torchlight approached. Two guards stopped before the bars, looked within, and raced away. Kwasin pulled the bolts out, and Hadon told him to throw Paga up the shaft.

  They waited impatiently until Paga called down for them to stand clear. The end of a thick rope made of cords of papyrus dropped onto the floor. Hadon tied it around his waist and was tossed upward. He caught like an olive pit in the throat of the shaft. Paga took up the slack and kept it tight while Hadon inched upward. On reaching the horizontal shaft, he felt around until he located a torch, a flint, a box of tinder, and irons. The torch was pine impregnated with fish fat. He struck sparks from the iron with the flint, and presently the tinder was flaming. He dropped some of it on the head of the torch, which soon was flaming and smoking. Paga untied the rope from Hadon’s waist and let it down again. Hadon placed the torch on the floor and helped Paga draw up Hinokly and Kebiwabes.

  Kwasin tied the end of the rope under his arms. All four above took hold of the rope, with Hadon and Paga at the edge of the shaft and the scribe and the bard pulling behind them. The giant’s three hundred and ten pounds of flesh and thirty pounds of bronze gyves and chains came up slowly. Hadon called down to him to brace himself against the walls and thus ease the weight.

  Kwasin said, “That is impossible! The skin on my shoulders is being pulled off; I’m being flayed alive! I can’t brace myself!”

  “Either the rope will break or our arms will come out of their sockets,” Paga said.

  “Pull!” Hadon said. “And whatever happens, don’t let loose. If another—”

  This time there was a crack as of a hippo-hide whip. Then a rumbling, louder than the first, and a shaking, more intense than the first. Kwasin’s terror yowled up the shaft. Hadon shouted to the others not to let loose, and they held. In about twelve seconds the stone was quiet, except for a distant rumbling. Hadon ordered the resumption of the hauling. Kwasin, moaning with fright and with the pain of seared skin, moved slowly upward, like a bird being swallowed by a snake.

  Hadon and Paga had to take frequent rests, and when they finally unplugged the shaft, they were exhausted.

  “You could have been more gentle,” Kwasin growled, inspecting the bloody skin on his shoulders.

  “We could have left you stuck there, too,” Paga said. “I don’t think I can lift my arms.”

  They ate, though Hadon was impatient to get going. He kept looking down the shaft, dreading the appearance of a light. If the guards checked on them again, they would raise an alarm. On the other hand, they might be so panic-stricken that they could not be bothered to search for them. Especially, he thought, since no one would want to enter the shafts at a time when they might cave in.

  “Mighty Resu is struggling with the Mother of All,” Kebiwabes said. “We are ants under the feet of battling elephants. Let us hope that they do not destroy us during their struggle.”

  “We are fortunate,” Hadon said. “The king’s men will be too disorganized to worry about us.”

  “You call it fortunate to be buried alive?” Kwasin said.

  “Quiet!” Hadon said. “I hear voices!”

  He looked below and saw lights. A man shouted. The bronze door swung creaking inward, and then a guard was looking up the well. Hadon withdrew his head.

  “Rested or not, we must go,” he said. “They will have to go after ladders, but that might not take them long. Also, they may have other entrances we don’t know about.”

  Hinokly, holding the torch, led the way. Hadon and Kebiwabes carried the swords; Paga, one end of the rope; Kwasin, the food, which he continued eating. When they were over the shaft leading down to the corridor, Hadon saw a number of guards run past it.

  “T
heir commander is a cool one,” he said. “He’s sticking to his duty even if the city falls in on him.”

  He quit talking. The walls and floor were shaking again. But the shock was much less than the first two. After it ceased, they continued to the shaft up which the scribe had climbed. Here Hadon said, “You may go down if you wish and take a boat out at once. But I am going up.”

  “Why?” Kwasin said.

  “He means to look for Lalila,” Paga said. “I will go with you, Hadon.”

  “I will be looking for Awineth, too,” Hadon said. “I am duty-bound to do so.”

  “But not love-bound?” Paga said.

  “You are crazy!” Kwasin said. “You would venture into the beehive when there is plenty of honey outside? The world is full of beautiful women, cousin!”

  “I don’t expect you to understand,” Hadon said. “There is nothing to keep you from leaving me.”

  Kwasin snorted and said, “Nothing except that people, if they heard about it, would say that I was a coward! Lead on, Hadon!”

  Hadon tied the end of the rope around the bottom rung. When they came back they could slide down past the mouth of the horizontal shaft to the top rung of the lower ladder. He swung out and pulled himself up rung by rung until his feet were on the lowest rung. Then he climbed swiftly up. The odor of smoke came to him. Looking up, he saw that the stars were no longer visible. Behind him came Paga, and behind Paga came Hinokly, the end of the torch clamped between his teeth. Kwasin came last, with one end of the rope tied to his neck. Halfway up, Kwasin would coil the rope around a rung so that the guards would not see it dangling down the shaft if they came this way. On the way back, they would untie the rope at this end and drop it. Though Kwasin’s wrists were connected with a heavy chain, its length enabled him to reach up for one rung while clinging to a lower one. The chains from the iron collar around his neck dragged below him, the bolts how and then catching on the rungs and causing him to swear.

  When Hadon saw the oblong of hairlines in the rock, he had Hinokly pass up the torch to him. Hinokly was glad to get rid of it; he muttered that his jaw had been about to break. Hadon examined the face of the section for controls but could find none. He pulled out on the bars and pushed in on them. Nothing happened. They did not seem to be connected to a mechanism within. That, he told himself, was to be expected. The royal family would not wish to arrange it so that an enemy could figure out a way to get in.

  Perhaps the wall was thin at this point. Should he thump on it with the hope of attracting someone inside? If it were Minruth’s apartment, he would have them at his mercy. Guards might be stationed by the exit to ensure that no one left or entered without royal permission. In fact, Minruth would be sure to have guards here if this were Awineth’s apartment, since she would know about it.

  Far below, a bellow welled up. The walls quivered, and Hadon hung on with one hand, clutching the torch with the other. When the temblor ceased, he pulled at the bars to determine if they had been loosened, and he found them still firm.

  Hadon told the others his conclusions. Paga said, “It is useless to stay here. The guards will soon be at the mouth of this shaft.”

  Hadon hesitated. Should he knock at the door?

  Someone shouted from far below. Hadon looked down and saw torchlight and a soldier leaning out of the mouth of the vertical shaft to look upward.

  There was still the exit from the head of the statue on the roof. They could climb down the steep dome with the aid of their rope. Perhaps they could go down that to another carved head, which might be the entrance to another shaft.

  Hadon made up his mind. He passed the torch down to Paga, drew out the short leaf-shaped sword from his belt, and thumped its hilt end against the stone. It rang hollowly. He had not been mistaken in thinking that the section was a thin shield leading to rooms beyond.

  But what if there wasn’t anyone there?

  He banged the hilt heavily, again and again.

  Kwasin roared, “They’re coming up! And I can’t reach down! They’ll cut my feet off!”

  Hadon looked down. Two torches were being held out from the horizontal shaft to light up the lower rungs. Three guards were climbing up, with a fourth hanging on the lower rung. The soldiers wore bronze cuirasses and helmets and carried swords in scabbards. And they were coming swiftly.

  Even if Kwasin could hold them off for a while, and that did not seem likely, they could soon be attacked from the secret exit. An intelligent officer would find out where the party was located in respect to the shaft and could send men to go through the exit. That is, he would if he knew about the exit. Perhaps he did not. Minruth and Awineth would not wish many to share their knowledge.

  Hadon repeated the heavy thumping. Whether enemies or friends were within, someone should come. If an enemy, he might be taken. At least Hadon would have someone to fight. He wouldn’t be clinging helplessly to a rung, waiting to be cut down and to fall to the hard stone far below.

  “Pass the torch down to Kwasin,” Hadon said to Paga. “He can drop it on the first soldier.”

  Paga did as ordered, and Hadon beat on the stone again. But the section did not move. There was still time to go up to the end of the shaft. He could fight a rearguard action while the others slid down on the rope over the dome. But was there anyplace they could go to when they reached the end of the rope?

  Hinokly said that there was a stone head about fifty feet below the one from which he had looked. The rope should be just long enough to reach it. They would have to leave the rope and climb over the top of the head and let themselves in from above. That is, they would if the head contained an entrance to a shaft.

  “Let’s go,” Hadon said, and then he fell inward with a crash.

  20

  He was lucky. If a man with a weapon had been standing on the other side, he could have killed him while he sprawled astonished, half on the section, half on the floor. He was up quickly, however, and shouting, “Awineth!” She came to his arms, clinging to him and kissing him passionately while she wept.

  Hadon pushed her away and said, “No time for that. What is the situation?”

  She looked past him at Paga scrambling down the section. “There are others?” she said. “How did you get out?”

  “No time for stories,” he said. He was in a small room lit by a bronze lamp. The walls were unpainted, and a rack held swords and spears and axes. The door was open, showing him a much larger room with bright murals of pastoral scenes and a life-size, life-colored marble statue of Adeneth, the goddess of passion, in a corner. At the foot of a great bed a corpse sprawled. His armor showed that he was an officer.

  “He was stationed in this room,” she said. “There are two guards stationed outside the door of the room beyond my bedroom. He heard the noise you were making. After he had listened a moment, he unlocked the door, came out, locked the door, and started across the room. Meanwhile, I had taken a dagger from my jewel box. I called to him, and when he turned, I stabbed him in the throat. Then I opened the section, though I did not know whom to expect. But I prayed that Kho would intervene, that by some miracle it would be you.”

  “Where is Lalila?” Hadon said.

  “Why do you care?” she said.

  “It is my duty to keep her from harm,” he said, hoping she would not ask why. “Quickly! Where is she?”

  “In an apartment down at the end of the hall,” she said. She looked at him strangely and said, “But my father spent the night with her.”

  “That is to be expected,” Hadon said, though he felt sick. “I don’t suppose he would still be with her?”

  “With Khowot shaking the earth?”

  Hadon moved into the great bedroom to make room for the others. Puffing and cursing, Kwasin climbed out, looked around him, saw the axes, and roared, “Paga, you are strong, though a manling! Cut my chains off with an ax!”

  Hadon asked Awineth how the section was closed. She pointed to a large closet just off the little room. He
entered and pulled down on a huge lever. The section, attached to chains at its end, rose quickly, presumably pulled by counterweights beyond the wall. There was a cry from the frustrated soldiers below, and then silence..

  Kwasin lay face-down on the marble mosaic floor and stretched out his arms.

  Paga said, “First your head and then the chain, Kwasin,” but he brought down the edge of a war ax on the chain that connected the wrists. It took five strokes before the link parted. Paga then chopped off the chains connected to the bolts.

  Kwasin heaved up, bellowing, “At last I am free!” and seized the largest ax and sword from the rack. With an ax in his right hand and the numatenu sword in his left, he roared, “Now we will cut our way out of the palace!”

  “Let’s hope we don’t have to,” Hadon said. “And keep quiet! There are guards a few doors away!”

  At that moment the palace cracked and shook again. Through the shafts which led to air vents on the dome, a roar came. It was followed by a number of thuds, as if heavy objects had struck the roof.

  When the temblor ceased and the noise had stopped, Hadon said, “Where are Minruth’s apartments?”

  “Would you slay him?” Awineth said.

  “If it is possible.”

  “Let me do it,” she said. “Kho will forgive me for killing my own father.”

  “Where are his apartments?”

  “They are on this floor in the northeast corner on the other side of the building. But he has ten men, all famed numatenu, stationed at all times at his door. Besides, he will be on the ground floor or out in the streets trying to calm his people.”

 

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